


honesty

by haetae



Series: wanderer from the steppe [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Attempts at Healthy Communication, Awkward Conversations, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 14:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haetae/pseuds/haetae
Summary: SHADOWBRINGERS MSQ SPOILERS UP TO LV 73.--Where Masaki thumps Thancred on the head for yelling at Minfilia.





	honesty

Masaki is about three seconds away from throttling the Crystal Exarch himself, but he has to maintain at least _some_ measure of cool. Though, that doesn’t stop him from using his height to his advantage and tower over the shorter figure, glaring down at him in deep disapproval. The man even seems sheepish after having explained himself and his… _attempts_ to summon Masaki gone awry. The fact that Thancred has been here for five, lonely years, and the Scions each for a year at most, if not longer, already has his blood boiling. Damn it all, why can’t time pass normally between worlds or something?

Masaki has an idea just how furious Alisaie felt at the time when she, too, was summoned. The Scions have been here for years! Only mere months have passed in the Source since their collapse!

But he leans back and clicks his tongue. The Exarch visibly relaxes, and Masaki takes no small amount of gratification that he’s managed to unnerve this mysterious stranger. 

“Again, I am sorry for the current circumstances. We will find a way to bring your friends back to the Source, once we have brought this world back from the brink.”

After having to rescue the world from gods know how many threats, saving this one doesn’t seem _too_ bad, right? So the sky has been eternally bright for the past hundred years, the First teeters on knife’s edge towards the brink of extinction, and there are vicious monsters out for aether. The Dragonsong War lasted for even longer with equally deadly foes with generations of losses, and he still put an end to that. 

Masaki shrugs flippantly. Honestly, what’s the worst that can happen?

“Easy enough,” he murmurs, rolling his shoulders.

* * *

He is so _sorely_ mistaken. 

Taking down sin eaters? That’s the easy part. Literally cleaving the Light from the sky? Doesn’t seem too difficult either, so far. Taking part in a rescue mission? No problem, did it before and he’ll do it again. Everything else, with the senseless politics and declarations of war? Out of his comprehension, but he’ll take direction just fine.

But dealing with interpersonal relationships after your loved one has been ripped from your grasp and sent to an entirely different world to live five, excruciatingly long years alone, without you? That’s the difficult part.

He stands in front of Minfilia like a physical, human shield and looks down at Thancred with a disapproving glare.

“She didn’t mean it,” he says.

Thancred looks extremely exasperated. And worn out. And hardened. 

“Have you not heard a single word I said?”

Masaki stands firm and crosses his arms. “Did she call Eulmore and ask to be catched?”

Thancred blinks, a bit stunned, and furrows his brow. “Caught. Where are you going with this, Masaki?”

“Answer.”

Alphinaud and Alisaie watch in growing anticipation as Thancred sighs and crosses his arms to match Masaki. This is shaping into an interesting discussion. Minfilia has all but taken to hiding behind him from the upcoming feud.

“She wandered off on her own, which is as good as announcing to the world that she’s an easy target, and that is why she should have _not_ gone out of my sight on a whim to―”

Masaki holds up a hand to stop him in the middle of talking. That leaves Thancred even more unbalanced than before. He likes to think that he’s quite justified in his scolding, because Minfilia could’ve gotten herself recaptured or _worse_ , but now Masaki is taking this a step too far. He opens his mouth again to argue, but gets shut down before he can get a word in edgewise.

“She is a _child_ ,” Masaki stresses. “She is trying ‘er best.”

“That does not mean she can make their job that much easier―”

“Um,” Alphinaud says with a tinge of caution and slight panic, “Mind if I—”

Thancred and Masaki turn to him as one, twin glares boring holes into the poor lad.

Alphinaud shrinks back. “Right. I didn’t say anything.”

“I’m sorry,” a tiny voice ekes out from behind Masaki. He turns his head to see Minfilia with her head bowed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve listened and…”

Immediately, Masaki kneels down and grips her by the shoulders.

“Look at me.”

She is hesitant at first, but she shyly flicks her gaze up to meet his.

“Don’t say sorry. Ok?” he bites his lip, and tries to continue in his awkward Common. “If you really sorry, then think what went wrong. What did you do wrong?”

Minfilia lowers her eyes at that.

“I went off by myself without telling anyone,” she mutters.

Masaki nods. Alright, this is getting somewhere. He ignores the surreptitious coughing and the soft “ow!” that follows. Probably the twins at it again.

“Mmhm. Why is Thancred mad ‘bout it?”

He can feel Thancred’s intense gaze on his back, but he focuses on Minfilia and her furrowed eyebrows as she thinks.

“Because… because I was a burden and―”

“No.” Masaki cuts in. Gods, just how did she and Thancred work together before he came to the First? Worse yet, did that old bastard mistreat her? He clears his throat. “Try ‘gain.”

Minfilia scrunches up her face even more, which is telling. He’s going to give Thancred an earful after this, about _communication_ of all the godsdamned things. And he’s a Qestir!

“Uhm…”

Masaki feels himself getting extremely exasperated and tired with the situation at hand.

“He _worry_ ‘bout you. If you are burden, he would not try rescuing you. Understand?”

The child’s face crumples and he has to give her a little nudge for her to snap out of it.

“Minfilia,” he says, and the name is almost foreign on his tongue after so long, “you are not burden. You are _never_ burden. Ok?”

There is a tense moment where she doesn’t say anything, but she manages a nod. “Okay.”

His shoulders sag in relief as he starts to stand. There’s a stark difference between her and the Minfilia he knew. Expecting so much from this child seems cruel. He clenches his fists. This is all so unfair and cruel. There has to be _something_ he can do to right this, somehow.

Then someone _laughs_. No, there are many voices tittering nonsense from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Shit,” Thancred says. “They’re already here.”

That’s when Masaki is introduced to the fae.

* * *

Urianger gives Thancred a _look_ before making some excuse that he needs to check on something, and leaves him alone with Masaki.

Thancred is unsure. Does he just, well, sidle up to him like nothing’s wrong? Like everything’s okay? None of the easy comfort is there. Masaki looks… pensive, for once, and he’s not sure if he ever saw him this _reserved_ before.

“So,” he says, just to break the silence, and then the conversation dies in his throat.

Masaki looks up and cocks his head in a silent question. Then, something passes over his face too quick for Thancred to read, and suddenly he walks towards him like he’s on a mission. Thancred can’t help taking a step back as Masaki stops mere ilms in front of him.

He clenches and unclenches his hands, unsure what to say or do either.

Then, finally―

“Be kinder to ‘er,” he intones in this awfully gentle voice. His brow furrows. “You say she is ally but she is more to you, righ’?”

Thancred feels a bit too raw and exposed. He’s at a loss for words, while Masaki barrels onward.

“No one can see mind. She keep thinking that you hate her! But you don’t―I _know_ you don’t―and is stupid when you act like…”

Masaki trails off and makes a constipated expression. Then he puffs out his chest and does… some sort of strange dance? What is this, an attempt to mimic a gorilla?

“Masaki, what are you doing?” Thancred asks, amusement coloring his tone.

“Makin’ fun of you,” he replies, and stops in the middle of his dance to glare at him. “You act like big, tough, mean man. Stop that. Minfilia is a child! She does not know how to handle your―damn, what did Y’shtola call it?” Masaki pauses in the middle of his uncharacteristic rant to mutter something under his breath. Then he throws up his hands in triumph. “Dramatic! She does not know how to handle your dramatic!”

At this, even Thancred feels affronted. He crosses his arms and frowns.

“I am _not_ dramatic,” he says for the sake of being contradictory.

Masaki barks a disbelieving laugh and the tension dissipates in the room. The anxious knot in Thancred’s chest unfurls when Masaki looks at him with exasperated but fond eyes.

“Then stop. She suffer enough. _You_ suffer enough.” He pauses for a bit and slowly reaches up to cup Thancred’s cheek. His thumb brushes over the space where lightning scars used to be. The touch is featherlight against his skin and it makes his heart ache deeply. “Don’t take that out on ‘er, ok? Is ok to lean on me.”

Thancred blinks hard, his throat closing up of its own volition. He catches Masaki’s hand and gently pulls it away from his cheek.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, more to himself than to Masaki. “You need not worry about me.”

At that point, he easily pulls his hand from Thancred’s grip to (lightly) smack him upside the head. He only manages a small “ow” out of shock than actual pain.

“Stupid. Stupid! I worry because I love you, _stupid!_ ”

Masakis pulls him into a hug and buries his face in Thancred’s neck. Thancred, for a lack of better response, curls his arms around him. The words _I love you_ flit around in his head like a bunch of manic pixies on milk. Or sugar. Or whatever those things get high off of. He’s not sure if his own thought processes and metaphors make sense anymore. He’s so busy getting lost in Masaki’s scent and the feeling of strong arms around him that he almost doesn’t hear him.

“I missed you,” Masaki whispers.

Thancred tightens his arms around him and presses his forehead against Masaki’s collarbone. It feels a little like home in his arms.

“I missed you too.”

Masaki pulls back enough to stare at him, eyes suddenly intense. He cups Thancred’s jaw and starts to lean in but he pauses ilms from his face. He swallows thickly.

“Can I―”

The doors squeak open.

“Thancred, I finished imbuing your―”

Minfilia halts mid-sentence and stares at the two of them. Thancred and Masaki stiffen. Only Thancred is brave enough to turn his gaze towards Minfilia. Her eyes are practically bulging out of their sockets. She gasps sharply and covers her mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut. Gods.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry―” She trips over something and hastily skitters out of the room. “Sorry!”

The doors slam shut behind her. Thancred clears his throat and shuffles back awkwardly, already sorely missing the warmth from the hug. Masaki bursts into helpless, embarrassed giggles, his cheeks flushed as he rubs the back of his neck. Well. So much for that moment.

“We should go. The others are waiting.” Thancred mutters, valiantly ignoring the heat in his own cheeks. He fiddles with the strap over his shoulder. “I will… take what you said into consideration. And we can continue this at another time. If you want, that is.”

Masaki grins widely and nods, ever the obliging man.

Someone clears his throat. Thancred tries not to roll his eyes when he finds Urianger at the door with a deadpan expression.

“If thou art finished being melodramatic,” he says, ignoring Thancred’s sudden sputtering and Masaki’s blank face, “we must make haste towards our objective.”

“Right,” Thancred says with a cough, “we’ll be right there.”

Masaki laughs again, this time carefree and light, and ruffles Thancred’s hair before slipping out the door past Urianger. It leaves him dazed and staring at empty space in confusion. 

“Thou art an enraptured fool for him.” Urianger notes in a dry tone. Thancred feels a migraine coming to fruition between his temples as he makes his way towards the door. Urianger graciously holds it open and closes it behind him once everyone is outside. “So much so that the young lady hath witnessed horrors beyond comprehension—”

“Gods, Urianger, you make it sound like we were going to commit unspeakable acts in front of a _child_.” Thancred complains. “He just wanted to kiss. It wasn’t going to be anything more than that.”

Urianger hums. The look on his face tells Thancred he doesn’t believe him at all. “Right.”

“ _Ugh._ ” The _audacity_ of this man.


End file.
